


A Meditation on Contact

by growtilltall (ThereAreFiveLights)



Category: Daft Punk
Genre: M/M, Robots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-10
Updated: 2014-02-10
Packaged: 2018-01-11 19:54:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1177255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereAreFiveLights/pseuds/growtilltall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something special happens when Daft Punk performs Contact live...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Meditation on Contact

**Author's Note:**

> This idea occurred to me while I was on a long drive... It's short and a little sci-fi...

_when i listen to contact... i imagine a daft punk concert..._

 

**Contact is the last song they play.**

Guy looks to Thomas, his chest tight; he reaches out and settles his hand on top of Thomas' hand, fingers pressed against his knuckles.

"Are we really doing this?" he asks.

Thomas nods, taking Guy's hand in his own and leading it to the round, flashing button in the center of their consuls.

"Ready?"

Their combined weight depresses the button.

The crowd cheers as the song builds, the engine sound begins. In their pyramid, Thomas and Guy hear the hiss of the air seal and the click of the locks disengaging from their ports. The floor shakes beneath them.

Guy's fingers tighten around Thomas's hand. He feels the first lift of the engines beneath his feet as the pyramid struggles for the energy needed to move. For a moment, he thinks that maybe this won't work- they'll play the final song and go back home, go to bed and wait for another day.

The pyramid lurches upwards, slowly at first, but it gathers momentum faster than Guy can catch his breath. The crowd, suddenly, is completely silent.

It rises and rises, and the wind is enormous. Thomas and Guy watch the crowd fall from the power of it. They watch the crowd grow smaller and smaller beneath them.

And then there is nothing.

They've breached the atmosphere and become weightless. The engines cease to rumble, the music comes to its end.

Guy reaches out to Thomas, their helmets coming together with a dull click. The sound does not echo.

"Where do we go now?"

Thomas's helmet lights up with a smile.

"Anywhere you want."


End file.
